Chapter 21

John returned to the bedroom and stripped, had a shower and a shave, and then dressed casually for the day. It was the first Saturday of December and the first day of his holiday, and he thought back to the last time he was planning a holiday months ago. Instead he was sent off to the Far East and Africa for months. Where was it he had planned going? Italy! That was it.

It only took a glance out of the window at the leaden grey clouds parading across the sky and the rain pattering against the window to disabuse him of any thoughts about going on holiday to Italy.

If he were to go somewhere warm and sunny it would have to be far away, the Caribbean for instance. He had a brief vision of white sands and blue, blue seas, sunshine and warmth! Then he remembered he was not a beach and sunbathing type! He liked touring, seeing sights, exploring quaint villages, visiting art galleries and museums. Still, he thought, there was something to be said for a relaxing tour of the Caribbean Islands.

He went on line and surfed among the Caribbean islands and the various holidays on offer and before he knew it the light had changed and it was mid afternoon. It was then he remembered his promise to contact Carol.

He looked up her mobile number and keyed in the digits, to find that the number was no longer in service. He then found he did not have her land line number. He toyed with the idea of sending her an email, but realised that the last emails he sent her were to no avail.

He decided to check the food supply and found that Tracy had stocked up well for him. There were a few items, like his favourite beers, that he wanted, so he took the car and drove to town and bought in non-essential supplies. He wandered around the town relishing the feeling of being back home again. He had a coffee and a danish pastry, enjoying the bustle of the weekend families in the coffee shop.

As he returned that evening, the phone was ringing. For a second he thought it was Carol. Then remembered she did not know he was back in Britain. It was Tracy.

“Have you been to see Carol?” came the blunt question.

“I don’t know either of her phone numbers,” he said. “Have you got them?”

“No, but John, just go round there and see her. I’m sure she’ll be happy to see you.”

He felt a lethargy descend on him: he did not want to go. He did not analyse why.

The silence provoked Tracy. “John you promised you would see her today.”

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I’ll go this evening.”

“Solemn Promise?”

“Solemn Promise!”

“Good boy!”

“Hmmph!”

A cackle of laughter and a click.

He made an evening meal of a ham and cheese salad, and particularly enjoyed the drink of tea. There had been no shortage of tea in the Philippines, but somehow it never tasted as good as now. He washed up, and feeling he had put off the moment long enough, left the house and drove to her flat.

The lights were on so he presumed she was at home. It was early evening, and so he assumed she would be going out later. He felt a frisson of fear about this visit. It had been so long since they had seen each other, and he suspected she had moved on, where he had not. He would see her and fall for her all over again and she would tell him it was finally over.

Get it over with, he admonished himself and rang her doorbell. The door opened and there she was. She had not changed: she was still as painfully beautiful as she was the last time he’d seen her.

However there was a look of surprise on her face, rapidly followed by annoyance. She folded her arms, a picture of rejection.

“What the hell are you doing here John? Haven’t you messed up my life enough already without doing it again, and after I’ve managed to move on?”

“I messed up your life? Who messed up mine? You did, and Liam did – twice! You know what you did. What did I do? Tried to get through to you. Got beaten up for my trouble.”

John took a breath and tried to quieten down. “Do you think we could discuss this inside instead of in this hallway?”

“I don’t think so. I’ve got company, so say what you’ve got to say and then go.”

“Oh, so sorry to interrupt your time with your boyfriend. Didn’t take you long to forget all that guff you spouted at me about wanting me back and nothing would stand in your way, did it?”

Carol bristled. “You sent me an email telling me to forget you, if you remember, and anyway it’s a bit hypocritical coming here when you’ve got a girlfriend of your own at home. I know all about Tracy. So go home to the little tart and leave me alone.”

“You’re the slag Carol. You knew I had been lied to about the midsummer’s party and that I thought you were with someone from your past love life. You knew that I came to the party to ask you to come home. You knew what my email really meant and why I sent it, to set you free for your non-existent earlier true love. It was me lovingly letting you go to be happy with him, but you knew the truth – that I was deceived.

“After all you said about us, you couldn’t wait for me to come home again, could you? Straight into bed with someone else!

“I only found out I’d been lied to at the party when I got back yesterday, and I’ve immediately come here. Clearly a mistake. All right, fine. I’m going.”

He turned and before she could say anything, he was on his way down the stairs. Before he disappeared completely, he threw a last comment.

“Tracy and I, we’re not in a relationship. Never have been. She’s with someone else. Someone you know. You could easily have found out she was with Dermott, but it didn’t suit you did it? Cramp your style with the new boyfriend, wouldn’t it? No excuse any more to whore it around! Good bye Carol. You won’t be inconvenienced by me again.”

With that John turned, ran down the last steps and rapidly left the building, leaving her standing puzzled at the door.

She leaned against the door jamb. While he was berating her she had caught a whiff of his cologne, the same one he always used to wear; the one she always told him she loved.

“Oh, God, not again!” she whispered to herself. All her feelings for him had returned, all the loss, all the desire and need for him, but this time things were truly beyond repair.

With a gaping void in the pit of her stomach she made her way back to Martin Prior, who was sitting on the sofa awaiting her return. It was their third date.

She had allowed a kiss after the last date, she had cooked him a delicious meal this evening, and he had hopes of making more progress this time: they had finished a bottle of wine together over the meal and had been in a kiss with hands wandering over each other when the doorbell interrupted them. He saw her face.

“Good God, Carol, what’s happened? Who was that?”